She looked exactly like Marie — even my instincts told me it was her — and yet, logically, it couldn't be.
I drew my katana and pointed it at her, but my body refused to obey. No matter what I did, I couldn't attack Marie.
"How did you get here, if you're pretending to be Marie?"
"Through the same teleportation circle that brought you into this palace. It seems it can send people to random locations."
"You're wrong. We reappeared on another circle with strange runes."
"I never said that wasn't the case. Besides, here is my own teleportation circle."
She pointed to a spot — the same circle that had transported me was there.
Since when had it appeared? I was sure it hadn't been there a second ago.
And yet, with my magic eyes, I saw it was identical: same symbols, same glow, same aura.
"I don't believe you. You're not Marie."
"Why are you so stubborn? What do I need to do to prove that I am who I say I am? Should we share an intimate moment so you finally understand?"
She moved closer, her eyes full of desire — just like Marie's when she was on the verge of losing control.
At the same time, I felt a surge of anger rise within me, because my instincts were finally telling me something was wrong.
"For the last time — who are you?"
My katana hovered just millimeters from her throat, ready to put an end to this deception.
She let out a small grin before speaking.
"Greed was right. You truly are a fascinating individual. You're correct — I'm not Marie, nor am I part of your expedition. In fact, I'm not even from your world. I'm not human. They often call me the Goddess of the Perfect Copy. I can fully imitate a person — their strength, their peculiarities, their physical and moral behavior — even their memories. I could even replicate your unique misinterpretation of time, which is quite... special. I honestly don't understand how someone as fragile as you hasn't gone mad from all the thoughts flooding your mind."
She made a sweeping motion with her hand across her face, and the illusion of Marie faded, replaced by my own face.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them—revealing writing etched within them.
"But the most important thing," she said, "is that I am the third most powerful Sin. I go by the name Envy."
The pressure she gave off was overwhelming. I realized then that my katana wasn't a weapon to her—it was merely decoration, a shroud.
"Are you the embodiment of envy?" I asked.
She let out a shy laugh.
"Indeed, you could say that. We Sins and Virtues are the purest representations of what we embody, though some of us are more... ambiguous than others. Take Justice, for example."
"What about Justice?"
"Justice is subjective. What one sees as just, another may see as cruel. Only the strongest have the right to define what justice truly is. Even Justice herself admits she is the least fitting bearer of her title."
She wasn't wrong, but I didn't want to start philosophizing with someone like her.
"Interesting fact: I can perfectly reproduce anyone and reach their level—except for a few exceptions, and Justice is one of them. If I ever tried to transform into her, I'd feel her blade before I even realized what happened."
"You don't really look like people," I replied.
"That's because I don't have a fixed appearance. You see, my very nature is to become what others desire. My true form is undefinable—it has no stable shape, no normal movement, no organs... In fact, I look more like a slime than anything else."